So Long For Now
by Sarah Wayne
Summary: “No, just, so long for now,” she replied, putting her hair behind her ear.


_**Disclaimer:**_ _**Paradise Kiss doesn't belong to me**_.

"So Long, For Now"

It had been a long time. Maybe too long, maybe not. She was older now, and more mature, with children of her own, and a happy life. She was still beautiful, modeling once and a while. But she was happy as an advertisement executive for _Zipper_.

It was a chilly day in January. He was visiting. He'd been in Milan for a few months, and before going back to Paris, he had stopped by to see his father. They'd met on the train.

It was a rather funny incident. He'd asked her to meet him for lunch. She agreed.

"Konichi-wa, Johji," she said, sitting at the table. He looked at her and smiled. He hadn't changed at all.

"Konichi-wa, Yukari." She smiled back. They sat in silence, looking at each other. Her heart was beating fast, just like it always had when she was around him.

"I've missed you George," she said at last, "how have you been?"

He smiled, looking at her like she was a beautiful piece of material he wanted to buy, but couldn't, because the shop was closed and she was behind the glass window.

"I've missed you, too. I'm well, I suppose. Rich, successful, handsome. And you?"

"I'm fine. You haven't changed."

"You have."

"I know. Does that upset you?" she smiled sadly.

"No, not at all." They ordered what they'd wanted, and lapsed again into silence.

"How is your husband? I heard you're a mother." She sipped her tea.

"He's well. And yes, I have two children. Twins. Caroline and George." He chuckled.

"I see."

"And you? Any one special?" He sipped his coffee and shook his head.

"I've seen a few people. But right now, no, no one special."

"How is Isabella?"

"She's fine. She's in Paris at the moment."

"That's wonderful. I'm really glad for your success."

"Arigato."

Again, the silence. They drank quietly, waiting for their meals to arrive. When their meals came, he looked at her, and then leaned in close.

"You're wearing one of my dresses." She smiled, leaning in as well.

"Hai. They always looked the best on me. And they've never been altered." She heard him sigh, and she giggled. He reached out, holding her hand, and she held his back. She felt like she had on the day of the fashion show. She was holding his hand; she was his strength. The beaded butterfly ring was on her right hand's ring finger.

They ate in silence, still holding hands.

"I haven't been the same," he said, squeezing her hand, "I didn't lie when I said it wouldn't be the same without you." She nodded.

"I know. You were my first, George; do you think I could possibly forget? You changed my life."

"Perhaps. Maybe I just helped you along." Yukari looked at George.

He still had that young face, maybe just a little more lined around the eyes. His eyes were that same beautiful blue. His hands were warm, except for his fingertips, and he still smelt like _that_ cologne.

She still loved him, she knew, that was undeniable. But they'd chosen their paths, and though they could never be together, there was still something they could share, something all their own, something intimate.

"I was so proud of you, for not coming with me to Paris. It killed me, but I was proud. I still am. Look at you. You're beautiful, successful, happily married, and have two children. You've bloomed, into a gorgeous blue rose."

She smiled, tears coming to her eyes as she squeezed his hand back.

"It killed me, too," she mumbled, "and don't say such things. You're making me cry."

He chuckled and wiped her eyes. The waitress came around, giving them the bill, George paid, because he was ever the gentleman.

"Would you like me to take you home?" he asked, putting on his jacket and hat. She smiled.

"Yes, please. That would be great."

She sat in the passenger seat of his car, and she felt so right there. They arrived at her home in such a short amount of time; she wished she lived further away.

They sat in the car, not saying a word.

"I guess this is good-bye," he said, fixing his hat.

"No, just, so long for now," she replied, putting her hair behind her ear.

"Yes, I suppose so." Silence.

"May I kiss you?" he asked, removing his hat. She looked at him.

"I didn't get to kiss you farewell, when I left," he explained, maybe for the reaction on her face, or maybe just to reassure himself.

Yukari smiled.

"Of course," she said.

George's lips were the same. Warm, soft, perfectly molded to her own, and tasting of his cologne.

They pulled away and she was amazed and proud of herself for not crying. He caressed her face, looking at her lovingly.

"I love you, Caroline," he said.

"I love you, too, Johji." She got out of the car and he rolled down the window.

"Give my best to Isabella," she said, turning on the walkway, leading to her front door.

"I will," he replied.

"So long for now," she said.

"Till we meet again," he replied, and drove off. She watched until his car disappeared then went up to her front door.

Hiro opened it and enveloped her in a warm hug.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She smiled, her eyes dry, as she hugged her husband back.

"I'm fine. Thanks Hiro," she replied, giving him a long kiss on the cheek. He rubbed her back.

"Good, I'm glad." He let go. She looked at him and winked.

They loved each other, her and Hiro. They cared for each other's not quite whole, but not quite broken hearts.

It wasn't easy, it was never easy. They argued sometimes; over jealousy or lack of time spent together. But they loved each other, any way.

They'd known it would never be the same. She cried at the play, just like she said. But she walked down the aisle, too. And he stood at the altar, and he dried her tears.

They were all they ever needed; even if it wasn't quite enough.

_**Owari**_


End file.
